Sorry for the lack of a roll this week, I've been ultra busy getting a part done for one of my stories. We'll roll on Sunday as usual since I've still got some stuff to do, but I'll try and squeeze another roll in the week after if all actions are in on time.

Also, Seraphimo, I'm a...little confused by your action. Your first line of dialogue says to warn them, the second line implies you're going to cut them down.

Well Chas first thought about warning them then he got told by Bodnakin to not let them live so he went with attacking them instead, which is why there's two lines in conflict with eachother because he already told them to go away.

Having trouble with the roll, but don't worry, it is definitely been worked on.

EDIT : Roll is 95% complete. Will be finalized tomorrow and posted.

Mon Feb 29, 2016 7:24 pm

caekdaemon

Data Realms Elite

Joined: Sun Nov 01, 2009 3:00 pmPosts: 4141Location: Hell.

Re: Risen Champions

And here we are, as promised. I've had the players with active phylacteries set them down in the hallway before entering the fight - it's not a good idea to slog into a battle without doing so. Setting them down somewhere is a minor action at most, so you don't have to worry too much about wasting actions or anything

****Roll 3!

Seraphimo/Chas Delaney[1] Whilst your corporeal companions get to work on moving the hefty stone door, you set your phylactery down in the corner, out of the way and out of harm's reach, then you walk through the wall and into the entry hall. The room is dark and hazy, lit only by an opening on the far side of the room and a handful of torches that had been brought down with the band of adventurers, graverobbers more like, and you go unnoticed as you look around - this room has been picked clean years ago, lacking even the braziers that were so common in the tombs below. Your eyes find the enemy, the six who have come to plunder your final resting place, and they are a motley band indeed, wearing mismatching pieces of armor and wielding weapons that look to have been stolen from a battlefield or something along those lines.

They look like they would provide little challenge in a straight fight...except the one man in the rear, an old soldier wielding a greatsword and armored in plate. His armor is battered and scratched from years of fighting, but also clean and well kept, the mark of an experienced fighter, but one without the coin for repairs.

He sighs, watching the others try to get the door open, but it is clear none of them have seen you, or are able to see you for that matter. You move closer, one step at a time, growing more accustomed to being unseen in death. You know full well what you want to do...

...but you haven't the first idea how to possess a man.

You have the capability to do so, you can feel it, but acting upon that power is more complicated than you had expected - your Death Knight comrades simply need to swing their swords about in order to translate their action into results, but taking a living man's body as your own is far more difficult. Do you walk into him, as if entering a doorway? Must you gather energy, first? Can it actually be done against a live man, standing awake and alert? Or is it only against the sleeping?

I must admit I can help you little with this puzzle. Perhaps drawing energy from the Soulstone is the key - it gives you life, after all, perhaps it is also the well from which your powers are drawn?

You focus intensely on the seasoned mercenary, moving closer as you do. You feel the hints of warmth upon living skin as you do, the taste of ale upon your tongue, the tiredness in your arms and the weight of your armor, and the mercenary yawns wearily as you get closer, closer, and then -

There is a loud, dull grinding sound as the stone doorway rolls to the side, your comrades having succeeded at last.

"Well done, mage! We might just get some coin after all."

The wizard swallows hard as he looks into the darkness.

"...that wasn't me."

Then your brothers-in-arms charge through the opening, and everything turns to chaos.

CharacterAppearance: In spectral form: Cyan ghost like figure. In human manifestation form: A man of average height and width. The face is a very serious face (Kinda like "Every second we spend talking could mean defeat." face) with two scars: one on the right cheek and one over the right eye (from up to down). And the clothing looks like a captain-of-the-guard outfit (Alarandisian captain-of-the-guard outfit). Backstory: Chas Delaney was a captain-of-the-guard tasked with the defense of a fortress on the frontlines that eventually fell late in the war due to the onslaught of hostile forces and supply shortages. The rest is lost to the passing of time.Character Type: Spectre

InventoryHeirloom: A large uncut amethyst that Chas Delaney got as a present from his uncle after Chas had completed his training to be able to become captain-of-the-guard.Active Phylactery: A large cyan crystal.

AbilitiesPossess: The Spectre, lacking corporeal form and barely tethered to the material realm, is capable of doing something that nothing else in the world can - they can possess not just living people, but inanimate objects, too. In the case of the former they "push" the owner of the body into an almost trancelike state as they slip in and take control - like a great knight going off to war they are utterly indomitable, but when they are away their home is undefended - whilst the person is, for all intents and purposes, sleepwalking. Some actions, like trying to harm their loved ones, will cause them to snap back to awareness almost instantly, but they are otherwise under the Spectre's complete control. In the case of an object their dominance is complete and utter - a sword controlled by the Spectre is capable of shooting through the air under their command just as a suit of armor might be possessed and made into a capable combatant.

Store: The Spectre, ever aware of the white light trying to call to them and the combined power of the Soulstone and the anchor that binds them, know that not only can they pick an item up off of the ground...but take it with them as they go towards the light, safe in the knowledge that they cannot pass on to the next life so long as their phylactery is intact. Able to drop any object there, outside of space and time and every other law of the world, they are able to store an infinite number of things in the place between one life and the next, even liquids and other such items can be placed there for future use and withdrawn whenever need be...however, should the Spectre be "killed" and made to return to their phylactery, everything they have stored away will be released instantly. A single item will fall to the ground without harm, but the more items stored away the more force that shall be unleashed when the universe reasserts itself - a few nails on their own might be harmless enough, but if the Spectre stores a great quantity of them, their demise would trigger a deadly explosion of flying metal shrapnel, and bigger objects increase in force quicker than little ones.

Imbue: An ethereal being is without limits in the number of forms it can take, allowing them the opportunity to not just forge a new body from the power of illusion, but to take the form of flame, of water and of everything else in in the world that you have experienced. You are not casting spells in the way that the Lich might, no, you become the energy that you wield - the fire you throw is an extension of yourself, able to controlled as such, and thus what it lacks in scale it makes up for with precision, and can safely be used to support your allies directly on their weapons and armor without any real danger.

StatusesActive Phylactery: You are certainly in range of your phylactery, and thus have no need to fear death...still, it might be a good idea to set it down somewhere rather than walk, or in your case, float about with it.

CaveCricket/Chaikin[2] Forming a quick plan of attack, you grab hold of one of the stone's handholds, putting your shoulder against the rock as the other knights come to your side, and together, with a great, hefty heave, the stone rolls from its ancient resting spot and into the trench meant for it, a glimmer of sunlight shining through the cracks as the tomb opens for the first time in centuries. The sound is deafening, but the silence when it stops is even more so.

You lead the charge, rushing into the room with sword and shield in hand, all your comrades not far behind. The wizard had been working to open the tomb, and is stood in the front center; you move so quickly and come from the darkness so suddenly he has no time to react, no time to cast even the most basic of defensive wards before you're in striking range.

Battle calculations below!

Attacker's offensive power: [ 2 + 6 = 8. 8 + 40%(3.2) = 11. ]

Limb struck is : 4 - Right Leg

Defender's defensive power: [4]

Final result: 4 vs 11 = 7 damage inflicted to right leg.

You dart in, holding the grip of your sword tight and placing the other upon the pommel as the wizard throws his book to the ground and tries to fall towards the rear, the more heavily armored mercenary moving quickly to try and take his place only to be intercepted by the woman of your party. The wizard is fast enough to stop your blade from taking his head, or from opening his belly, but you are quick enough to change where the blow lands...and the wizard cries out in pain as your steel bites him in the top of his right thigh, cutting through cloth to the bone with ease. He crashes to the ground, carried by the last of his momentum, and clutches the bloody wound before the other death knight, armed with a greatsword, splits his head in half as if it were an overripe melon.

CharacterAppearance: Pale skin, black hair, blue eyes. Not the buffest guy around, but he's fit enough to work the farm and run away from bandits.Backstory: Chaikin had his roots as an ordinary farm boy. When the war started, he was drafted as a soldier and ended up not dying immediately. No, he died much later, after many hard-fought battles and slim victories, when a boulder launched from an enemy trebuchet pasted him against the lush Alarandis farmland, sending him back to tend to the crops with the rich nutrients of his body. Or so he thought.Character Type: Death Knight.

Inventory

Old Bracers: An old and rusty set of ill-fitting bracers and gauntlets. +2 defensive die for the arms.Old Greaves: An old pair of greaves and sabatons that clank loudly whenever you move. +2 defensive die for the legs.Old Helmet: A helmet of antiquated design and fashion, still bearing the marks of battle. +2 defensive die for the head.Old Breastplate: A dented, rusty and otherwise forsaken breastplate. +2 defensive die for the chest.

Old Sword: Chipped, blunt and with a cracked crossguard, this weapon has seen better days. +2 offensive die.Old Shield: A wooden shield covered in scars from past battles and with illegible heraldry. +2 block die.

Peasant Knife: An aggressive phylactery resembling an ordinary folding knife. Cutting actions are greatly improved while the phylactery is with Chaikin.

AbilitiesChivalry: Though the vows of knighthood might have been sworn so long ago and perhaps even forgotten by the passages of time, you have maintained enough of your memories to know the tell tale signs of another highborn warrior, allowing you to read their body language and thus predict who they will target next and what they are planning to do. In addition these memories also shape your posture, stance and mannerisms, making it clear to all that you were of high birth - an eternally useful thing, as many merchants and heralds can be better "swayed" by the presence of a knight of noble birth than they can a mere mercenary.

Dualist: Untold years of hard earned experience in tournament melee's and on the battlefield allow you to see the openings that appear whenever an opponent launches an attack, allowing you to immediately counter - for every attack you take, you deal another in return, regardless of whether the hit struck you or not.

Assault: A truly skilled warrior knows that it is possible to carry from one attack to the next in a smooth flow from one target to the next, dispatching one opponent only to rush to the next to do so again, with the understanding that a frontal assault can be as good as, if not better, than defense. By sacrificing your defensive roll - any blows targetted at you will thus strike directly against armor - you may select three enemies to attack; should the first enemy die or be crippled, you will immediately proceed to the next target with an additional combat die and again for the final target.

StatusesAggressive Phylactery: You have your Phylactery on your person, and thus are receiving all its benefits - your final offensive score is 40% higher.Set Bonus: Though your equipment is more at home at an archeological dig than a battlefield, even old and rusty armor is better than no armor at all - +10% defense score.

CrazyMLC/Bodnakin[3] Whilst the wraith might be able to pass through the walls of the tomb as if they weren't there, you and your corporeal comrades cannot. The other death knight, the man with the sword and shield, puts his shoulder against the stone wheel that covers the entrance to the crypt, but he cannot shift it on his own. The woman puts her strength alongside him, and together the stone starts to move, albeit barely, so you draw your sword and set it down against the wall before joining them, taking one of the handholds and putting all your strength into the push...and finally, the stone wheel rolls up and out of its resting place and into the trench meant for it, sliding open as the light of day shines into the tunnels. The lich and the vampire stand aside, waiting, and you grab your sword again as the other knight leads the charge.

You and he both go for the wizard, whilst the woman catches the attentions of the heavily armored mercenary and tries to keep him at bay with lengthy and defensive fighting. Bursting from the darkness as fast as your legs can carry you, it's instantly obvious the graverobbers weren't expecting any opposition - they are out of position and disorganized, and only the mercenary and the rogue are fast enough to react to the rush. The wizard, stood at the front of their band, is caught utterly by surprise, and desperately tries to fall back to safety, only for his thigh to be caught by your comrade's steel, steaming scarlet dying the cloth of his blue robe purple as he crashes to the ground, clutching at the cut as he tries to staunch the bleeding.

All the fallen wizard's attentions are on his wound as you close in to finish the job.

Battle calculations below!

Attacker's offensive power: [ 3 + 5 + 5 + 3 = 16]

Limb struck is: 6 - Head.

Defender's defensive power: [1]

Final result: 16 - 1 = 15 damage inflicted to head.

Running forward with your greatsword raised over your shoulder, the wizard barely has time to look at you before you are close enough to swing, and not enough time for him to do anything that might save his life. Your steel shines in the sunlight as it scythes through the air and catches the wizard by the ear, cleaving through skin and bone and brain and out the other side again. The wizard stares forward with a blank, vaguely concerned expression, so you kick him over and the top half of his head, hat and hair still attached, simply falls off.

Blood gushes from the wound, carried onto the stonework by three weak spurts of a dying heart, and what is left of the wizard's face twitches once or twice before finally falling still.

CharacterAppearance: Lightly tanned skin, brown hair, green eyes. A little short and stout, but has a good chunk of meat behind him. A bit paler and... off, than he was in life.Backstory: Bodnakin wasn't always a knight, he started out in his royal family's business, carving stone and smithing metal. They did it not so much for the money, but for the work itself. As such, the war started without him, as he was meant to stay at the smithery making weapons for the war effort. He had to give up carving stone during this time, which was his true passion, for smithing. But as the military's numbers thinned and thinned, he was eventually told to come to the front lines. He prepared for his moment in the sun, making himself a beautiful two-handed sword, and taking his family's finest armor. His first moments on the battlefield were shortlived however - a boulder launched from an enemy trebuchet flattened him, along with a few others. At least he got to work with stone again. But, his adventure wouldn't end there...Character Type: Death Knight, two-handed sword.

Inventory

Old Bracers: An old and rusty set of ill-fitting bracers and gauntlets. +2 defensive die for the arms.Old Greaves: An old pair of greaves and sabatons that clank loudly whenever you move. +2 defensive die for the legs.Old Helmet: A helmet of antiquated design and fashion, still bearing the marks of battle. +2 defensive die for the head.Old Breastplate: A dented, rusty and otherwise forsaken breastplate. +2 defensive die for the chest.

Old Greatsword: A long and wicked weapon whose blade has been warped slightly, this weapon depends more on its weight than its sharpness, now. +4 offensive die, and this item contains your Aggressive Phylactery.

Abilities

Chivalry: Though the vows of knighthood might have been sworn so long ago and perhaps even forgotten by the passages of time, you have maintained enough of your memories to know the tell tale signs of another highborn warrior, allowing you to read their body language and thus predict who they will target next and what they are planning to do. In addition these memories also shape your posture, stance and mannerisms, making it clear to all that you were of high birth - an eternally useful thing, as many merchants and heralds can be better "swayed" by the presence of a knight of noble birth than they can a mere mercenary.

Dualist: Untold years of hard earned experience in tournament melee's and on the battlefield allow you to see the openings that appear whenever an opponent launches an attack, allowing you to immediately counter - for every attack you take, you deal another in return, regardless of whether the hit struck you or not.

Assault: A truly skilled warrior knows that it is possible to carry from one attack to the next in a smooth flow from one target to the next, dispatching one opponent only to rush to the next to do so again, with the understanding that a frontal assault can be as good as, if not better, than defense. By sacrificing your defensive roll - any blows targetted at you will thus strike directly against armor - you may select three enemies to attack; should the first enemy die or be crippled, you will immediately proceed to the next target with an additional combat die and again for the final target.

Statuses

Aggressive Phylactery: You have your Phylactery gemstone socketed into the weapon you wield, and thus receive its bonus. Gain +1 offensive die with every quality level of the weapon.Set Bonus: Though your equipment is more at home at an archeological dig than a battlefield, even old and rusty armor is better than no armor at all - +10% defense score.

TheKebbit/Tsunnarad[4] Lacking either the strength to push the gatestone like your more heavily armored companions or the ability to walk through walls like the spectre, you stand to the side, waiting patiently for the battle to begin. The three death knights combine their efforts to move the stone out of the way, but despite their combined might they can barely make it roll back and forth, yet alone up the small, triangular block that keeps it fixed in its position. Needing to practice your abilities to ensure that you will be ready for the coming fight, you grip the staff tight, and extend a hand, fingers placed as if holding the edge of a coin between thumb and forefinger. Focusing upon the right side of the stone wheel, you slowly move your hand, mimicking the path you want it to move...and the gatestone rises with the death knight's push, climbing over the small barrier and out of the way.

You let go, turning your attentions to the brightness shining in and how the vampiric champion shies away from the light, but as soon as the armored champions start their charge you move forward, into the entry way. The wizard is felled in seconds by the first two, his right thigh slashed to the bone before his head was halved, the knightess locks the mercenary into close combat, keeping his attentions whilst the other warrior - armored in boiled leathers and wielding a mace and shield - tries to circle around to take her from the side.

Then there is the rogue, a bowman of green and yellow stood near the entry way. His eyes lock with yours, and he quickly pulls a throwing dagger from his belt and hurls it towards you.

Battle calculations below!

Attacker's offensive power: [1]

Limb struck is : 2 - Right arm.

Defender's defensive power: [6]

Final result: 6 - 1 = -5 damage inflicted to right arm.

The dagger careens through the air in a wild, unbalanced motion caused by the haste of the rogue's throw...so much so that your forearm is struck not by the blade, but by the pommel, hitting your robe and long gloves with a pitiful rustling before falling against the masonry with a louder, sharper clang. You look back to the rogue, smiling a twisted grimace of jagged teeth and ruined flesh that makes him recoil backwards in fear.

"Son of a ladylike...what are you?"

You deign to answer, and instead grip your staff once more, putting an almost-closed fist forward...and the rogue rises off of the ground, a plaything for your magic. You spy the bard, watching as she looks over at the dead wizard before turning pale and scrambling back towards the entryway, and so you hurl the rogue at her. He flails wildly, shouting wordlessly as he flies as well as his dagger had, then crashes into the bard and sends her to the ground, pinned beneath him and unable to escape, at least for the time being.

CharacterAppearance: Charred and desiccated post-flesh - the shambling ruin of a corpulent man, a swarthy, buccaneering spellcaster who in life was equally at home slaughtering bandits on the frontier or cutting runes inside of a library. The whites of his eyes have darkened to slate grey. A slick mixture of ash and preserving brine trickles from old wounds in his barrel chest.Backstory: A line of scholars, advocates, judges and natural philosophers ended inexplicably with this brute. Given naturally to war, his powerful magical gifts aided his ascent to captainhood in the regular army - mathematics, artillery and impeccable drill were his mundane forte. Tsunnarad ruled his troops with the whip, ruined townships with a massive hand that spat unholy flame. Marked for execution by the enemy when the kingdom was torn asunder, the brave officer remained mute out of spite when asked to plead his case. Perhaps he longed for the final peace. Now, old hates and memories of heavy deeds carry him into a new dawn of horror and blasphemy. Character Type: Lich

Inventory

Old Staff: A cruel and gnarled looking thing, this staff has all the finesse and artfulness of a bridge troll's club. Gain a four offensive die base attack and two die for spellcasting purposes.

Old Robe: Once a fine vestment of carefully spun cloth, moths and time have wrought havoc against this robe. Gain an additional combat die for all spellcasting purposes and +1 defensive die for blows against the chest. Old Leggings: With stitches coming undone and the cloth fraying, it is a wonder these haven't torn in half yet. +1 defensive die for the legs.Old Hat: Though no wizard or spellcaster is truly complete without their hat, this only magic this one has is dust. +1 defensive die for the head.Old Gloves: Gloves are common amongst most wizards, especially those with alchemy as their goal, but these gloves are so perforated and thin that they offer little in the name of protection. +1 defensive die for the arms.

Angered Phylactery: A pendant bearing a molten religious symbol, a smoking tetrahedron of reddened iron with a glow that ebbs rhythmically. The seal of his family's academic god reduced to a focus for his unending life.

AbilitiesSoul Forge: A unique ability that centuries of influence by the Soulstone has given to the Lich is the power to bind the soul of living beings to one location, similar to how the Soulstone itself holds the souls of the champions in the material world. Whilst the scale of the ability makes it less useful during combat, it allows the Lich to bind someone, such as a particularly dangerous knight, to a single location - though their body might be able to leave the location their essence cannot, making them feel grievously ill and weak the further away they get from the trapped location. Similarly, it is possible to bind the soul of one living being to another - perhaps to even one of your fellow champions - which results in any harm inflicted to the one appearing on the other. These bonds, however, are weaker than those of the Soulstone and any skilled magical user could potentially block their creation or break an established connection, but otherwise they ignore magical shielding and other such wards.

Levitate: An ability commonly found in all spellcasters and the first proof of a youth's affinity for the arcane arts, even the cold grasp of death could not take this skill from you. You have the ability to move objects up to your own weight using only your own willpower, and to do so by merely looking at them - by this means you can crush your foes with heavy objects or simply by lifting them up off the ground only to slam them back into it.

Arcane Expertise: Though death might have stolen most of your memories of life, even the more detailed parts of your long hours of study, it could never take away the impact of your tutors and your tomes and your approach to magical mysteries, all of which have combined into the ability to decipher and understand the tell tale signs of magic. You can look at another sorcerer and see what spell they might weave, as well as examine any magical barrier, glyph or any other such devices and determine what they do and how they do it.

Magical Light: One of the first abilities an apprentice learns and one of the last they lose in the unwinnable war against age and senility, this ability was the first to come back to you after your death: it is a simple one, with little in the name of damaging ability...however, the ability to create light, on demand and without the need of a torch, is an eternally useful ability. The ability to blind one's opponents is even more so.

StatusesAggressive Phylactery: You have your Phylactery on your person, and thus are receiving all its benefits - the power of all fire based abilities are doubled.Set Bonus: Truly taking the concept of a long dead wizard to heart, your ancient sorcerer's clothes suit you well. Gain another spellcasting die.

Maart3n/Luther[3] Leaving the wraith to walk through the wall and the death knights to work on opening the way forward, you move to the side near the lich, setting your phylactery down in a safe spot before crouching down and loading your crossbow. The weapon is old, and uncompliant with your loading, but even when it was new it was designed for hunting, to be shot against game from horseback, and as such lacks anything like a stirrup of a windlass. Fortunately, the weapon is light enough for you to draw it by hand, and still has the strength to hold its energy for a time, even with a quarrel ready to fire; one of many reasons that had made sure it was the crossbow and the arbalest which were the nobility's ranged weapon of choice, not the longbow and its smaller kin, which are the weapons of peasantry, not noblemen.

By the time you have finished loading, your comrades have finally managed to open the gatestone...and you are almost blinded by the intensity of the sunlight shining through. Simply looking at it after so much time spent underground makes your skin crawl and your eyes tingle, but the wretched feeling subsides after a moment - so long as you stay out of direct light, at least.

The knights charge in, catching the band of adventurers almost completely by surprise, and though you had planned to shoot at their mage, he falls in seconds, before you even have a clear line of fire to take a shot at him. You sigh as you raise the crossbow, then look around the room for a good target - the bard is exposed, but her singing is as sweet as honey, and you don't feel like shooting her, not when there are others to deal with. The she-knight is busy keeping the mercenary's attentions, which has the added side effect of making it hard for you to be able to take a shot at him, either, and the rogue...the rogue is floating across the room.

But your eyes fall upon the second warrior. He's more lightly armored than the first, carrying a wooden shield to make up for the lack of plate, but he can move quicker without it...and he's trying to flank the knightess.

You raise your crossbow.

Battle calculations below!

Attacker's offensive power: [4 + 1 = 5]

Limb struck is : 3 - Chest.

Defender's defensive power: [5]

Final result: 5 - 5 = 0 damage inflicted to the chest.

The quarrel is loosed with a loud twunk, and crosses the distance in a heartbeat. The brawler has his back turned towards it, and it strikes him square in the top left shoulder, the man shouting out in pain as it punctures the leather and bites the skin only slightly. He growls angrily, tearing the quarrel from his armor, but he backtracks from her side and faces towards you, shield raised and ready for whenever you take another shot. You've managed to stop her from being flanked, but you probably won't be able to get another shot at him without being blocked by the shield.

CharacterAppearance: Sharp hawkish features that are somehow still able to produce a charming smile and tall, the kind of nobleman who thinks the sword to be beneath him.Backstory: A third son to an influential family, Luther was raised to be the Castellan to some small and in his opinion insignificant keep. Considering direct combat and it's inherent risks beneath him, he became a master of siege warfare and political intrigues. Any battle could be won by morale, be it with an arrow in the right back or by attrition. Any battle except his last, surrounded and horribly outnumbered the only option left was retreat. Expecting to be executed should the enemy find out who he was he fled dressed as a commoner among the cooks and maidens. Never expecting to die like so many of his own victims: with an arrow in his back.Character Type: Vampire, crossbow.

Inventory

Old Crossbow: With rusting fittings and old sinews, this once mighty crossbow is on its last legs...even still, it certainly has some bite left. +2 offensive die.

Old Cloak: A thick travelling cloak, well suited for keeping either rain or sun off of the wearer, as well as for hiding things you might want to be hidden. Still, the years have not been kind to this soft cloth, and it both smells musty and has a few holes ripped in it. Allows you to conceal a few small items and provides protection against the sun for a time.Old Doublet: With velvet cloth now marred by dust, this once beautiful doublet looks more like something worn by the peasantry than by a nobleman, even still, its padding is thick and yet it is still extremely easy to more about in. +1 to all stealth actions and +1 defensive die.Old Breeches: Though these worn out leggings might look little different than what a poor merchant might wear, they were made of better material and have a better fit with an emphasis on allowing for easy footwork, eternally useful for dancing...and for sneaking. +1 defensive die.Old Hat: A soft velvet hat that was once formerly crowned with the feather of a peacock, this hat, once the crowning glory of your outfit, shows how dire things have truly become. +1 defensive die.

Active Phylactery: A teardrop shaped vial of his own blood.

2x Smoke Potions: When smashed or otherwise opened, these glass bottles will disperse a thick cloud of grey smoke, perfect for covering one's escape or otherwise making it hard for one's enemies to see you. It disperses before long, however, and even faster in the outside world.

1x Vial of Poison: A dangerous and noxious brew derived from the roots of the nightshade plant, this vile concoction is utterly harmless to you and your fellow undead champions but lethal to most human beings after only a few minutes of ingesting it.

1x Alarandisian sovereign: The highest denomination of money that the old kingdom once used, this golden coin was used to buy high quality weapons and armor or to enlist the services of entire bands of mercenaries. Now that the kingdom has fallen, it's value is merely that of the metal it is made from and nothing more.

AbilitiesEnthrall: An ability first known of in fairytales and passed down from one generation to the next in story and song, the ability for a vampire to make another their thrall is well known; however, the means varies from a mere glance to a kiss under the moon to everything else imagined by man...in reality, the truth is far simpler; a chalice of vampiric blood is enough to make most people compliant with the vampire's requests, two cups will crack the will of even the strong and three will make them into a true thrall, utterly devoted to their master...however, these effects do wear off given time, though they can be prolonged indefinitely with regular cups to drag on the effect, but any who completely recovers from their effect can never be enthralled again.

Glamor: Any man or woman who has danced the careful ballet of courtly politics and intrigue know best how to catch the eyes of others, how to make themselves appear all the more magnificent and how best to make themselves appear as an unnoticed detail in the background. With their heritage in the royal court of Alarandis, the vampire has this ability and death has only made it stronger. With an innate aura of splendor about them, the vampire can easily find eyes drawn towards them...or, if they so desire, they can control the effect enough that people instead find them more plain in appearance and are less likely to pay attention to them.

Assassinate: Though internal matters of the kingdom were not quite as bloodthirsty as the title of this ability might suggest, despite duels in the name of honor, royal courtiers were both the first and last line of defence against those who might try and infiltrate the realm and its voice whenever diplomacy was needed. With nothing more than a dagger and your wits, you can instantly and silently kill any unwary target you are standing behind with almost no difficulty. In addition, you can slip poison into drinks and other such things without your target taking notice, so long as they are unaware of your intentions to do so, and assassinate someone from a location such as a building or even a grassy knoll whilst using a crossbow.

StatusesBlood Level : 5.Set Bonus: Half of being a nobleman is looking the part - your old clothes might get you turned away from the table of a high and proud lord, but they make you look nothing like any sort of threat. Enemies are less likely to target you in battle and might not even consider you an opponent at all.Active Phylactery: You are certainly in range of your phylactery, and thus have no need to fear death...still, it might be a good idea to set it down somewhere, perhaps somewhere dark...

TorrentHKU/Captain Brynhildr Kindaustein[2] You watch as the spectre walks through the wall, passing through the thick stone as if it were not even there, then you turn your attentions to opening the gatestone. It is so large and so thick that it would be impossible to move, were it not for the handholds placed in the middle of its surface. You stride over with the others, gripping the handholds tight and pushing with every last drop of strength you can muster, even walking alongside as if trying to drag it along - it takes a few tries, but eventually it manages to climb over the small bump blocking its path and roll into the track meant for it to follow. Bright, warm light shines into the tunnel, driving the vampire into a dark corner, but you and the others have no such impediment.

Drawing your sword, you raise your shield and charge through the opening and against the band of graverobbers, planning to find their most heavily armed and armored fighter and keep him busy long enough for the rest of the party to join in...once the others have been dealt with, of course. The wizard is the first to be attacked, and the first to tall, his thigh slashed to the bone before he lost the top half of his head to a greatsword's blow, but the most dangerous enemy is right in front of you.

An old mercenary, a hedge knight armored from head to heel in battle scarred plate and wielding a two handed sword. He flips his visor down before you can get close, and reacts the fastest out of all the adventurers, despite his age.

His moves are quick and practiced: with both hands upon the leather grip of his greatsword, he raises the sword up past his shoulder and swings. You barely bring your shield up in time to catch the blow. Sword and shield clash with a horrid bang and bone rattling force, driving you backwards from the impact and giving him an opening. He quickly moves his left hand up past the crossguard, thrusting the weapon forward, but the speed of the move drives it off course, and it succeeds only in scraping the sides of your breastplate, bright sparks glittering through the air. You dart backwards, past the reach of his greatsword, and the old warrior places the sword against his shoulder, breathing hard as he gathers more energy for another attack.

But you don't give him a chance to rest. Raising your sword and shield once more, you charge against him.

Battle calculations below!

Attacker's offensive power: [1 + 3 = 4]

Limb struck is : 2 - Right arm.

Defender's defensive power: [3 + 4 = 7]

Final result : 4 - 7 = -3 damage inflicted to the right arm.

He reacts quickly, and moves as if he had expected you to counterattack, bringing his sword around as you close in. Your shield is out of place to stop the blow, but your sword isn't, and you catch the attack on your crossguard - the mercenary pushes forward, trying to drive you against the ground, but you stand fast, refusing to yield, and match him.

"You're not bad for a woman."

CharacterAppearance: A tall nordic woman with a hard edged face. Steely blue-grey eyes with a piercing stare, and long golden-brown hair tied into a hair braid down to her waist, secured with a thick round silver hair clip near the end.

Backstory: Raised without a mother due to an accident involving a pack of wolves, Brynhildr was worked hard and raised strong. When combat broke out nearby, she quickly joined in the defense, rapidly making a name for herself with her no-nonsense fighting style and brutal efficiency in battle, in one fight cutting down half of a dozen men by her lonesome and scaring the rest into fleeing. Her rise through the ranks was meteoric when leadership was so rapidly lost to battle, though her end was just as climactic; felled not by an enemy blade, but by a large boulder fired from a siege engine.

Character Type: Death Knight.Inventory

Old Bracers: An old and rusty set of ill-fitting bracers and gauntlets. +2 defensive die for the arms.Old Greaves: An old pair of greaves and sabatons that clank loudly whenever you move. +2 defensive die for the legs.Old Helmet: A helmet of antiquated design and fashion, still bearing the marks of battle. +2 defensive die for the head.Old Breastplate: A dented, rusty and otherwise forsaken breastplate. +2 defensive die for the chest.

Old Sword: Chipped, blunt and with a cracked crossguard, this weapon has seen better days. +2 offensive die.Old Shield: A wooden shield covered in scars from past battles and with illegible heraldry. +2 block die.

Abilities

Chivalry: Though the vows of knighthood might have been sworn so long ago and perhaps even forgotten by the passages of time, you have maintained enough of your memories to know the tell tale signs of another highborn warrior, allowing you to read their body language and thus predict who they will target next and what they are planning to do. In addition these memories also shape your posture, stance and mannerisms, making it clear to all that you were of high birth - an eternally useful thing, as many merchants and heralds can be better "swayed" by the presence of a knight of noble birth than they can a mere mercenary.

Dualist: Untold years of hard earned experience in tournament melee's and on the battlefield allow you to see the openings that appear whenever an opponent launches an attack, allowing you to immediately counter - for every attack you take, you deal another in return, regardless of whether the hit struck you or not.

Assault: A truly skilled warrior knows that it is possible to carry from one attack to the next in a smooth flow from one target to the next, dispatching one opponent only to rush to the next to do so again, with the understanding that a frontal assault can be as good as, if not better, than defense. By sacrificing your defensive roll - any blows targetted at you will thus strike directly against armor - you may select three enemies to attack; should the first enemy die or be crippled, you will immediately proceed to the next target with an additional combat die and again for the final target.

StatusesAggressive Phylactery: You have your Phylactery on your person, and thus are receiving all its benefits - gain +1 block die with every quality level of the shield.Set Bonus: Though your equipment is more at home at an archeological dig than a battlefield, even old and rusty armor is better than no armor at all - +10% defense score.

****Game Events

"We lost Talin," the lightly armored warrior shouts as he backtracks towards the source of light, leaving the dead wizard behind. "Fall back towards the entryway! We'll take them on one by one!"

The mercenary heeds his words, walking backwards towards the entry and never once turning away from any of the champions as he withdraws, whilst the rogue and the bard struggle to stagger to their feet - the fallen pair are far enough away that none of the champions can hit them, which puts them almost entirely out of the fight. The lightly armored warrior stands besides the heavily armored one, and the two face off against the entire group from a narrow position that makes it impossible to get around them, yet alone get behind them.

> Walk behind the warriors and then imbue water in front of the lightly armored warrior's face to distort his vision

Sat Mar 05, 2016 2:17 pm

CaveCricket48

Joined: Tue Jun 12, 2007 11:52 pmPosts: 10435Location: Here

Re: Risen Champions

> After the ranged attackers do their thing, run towards the front-most enemy and attempt to wrangle away their defenses if I reach them before my other allies - else, attack whatever opening my ally created.

Sat Mar 05, 2016 5:41 pm

TheKebbit

Joined: Sat Jul 04, 2009 10:24 pmPosts: 3783Location: NORTH

Re: Risen Champions

>Attempt to bind together the souls of every one of our hapless foes in an extended chain so that their pains might be shared.

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